[Intro] [Warm, melodic fingerpicked guitar in an open G tuning. The bass enters with a soft, walking Woody Guthrie-style rhythm.] [Verse 1 I’m sittin’ in the back room of a club in old Berkeley Thinking 'bout the voices that once set the spirit free Before the neon lights grew bright and the gold was turned to plastic There was something in the music— something wild, fantastic. . . drastic They built a house of cedar from the stories that they told And they left a map for all of us before the hearth grew cold. [Chorus] Oh, we’re sheltered by the shadows of the tallest trees that grow Learning all the finger-rolls and the songs from long ago They sowed the seeds in Berkeley and the hills of Tennessee And I’m just a humble gardener of the legacy they leave. [Instrumental Interlude] [Bright, folk-style guitar solo with clear, ringing high notes—reminiscent of the "Wind River" sound.] [Verse 2] From the canyon out in Laurel to the fog of Mendocino They found a way to say the things That. . . deep down . . . we already know About the dignity of working and the beauty of the rain And how a simple melody can ease a heavy pain Now I’m standing on the stage they built with calloused hands and grit Trying just to keep the candle and the wisdom lantern lit. [Chorus] Oh, we’re sheltered by the shadows of the tallest trees that grow Learning all the finger-rolls and the songs from long ago They sowed the seeds in Berkeley and the hills of Tennessee And I’m just a humble gardener of the legacy they leave [Verse 3] Yes, those old song-weavers Now all the tallest trees And we’re still in their shade And we trail those old song singers And the magic that they made Utah Phillps and Seeger And Crosby and McGuinn And Taylor and Souther And others of that kin. Kate Wolf and Rosalie Joni Mitchell and EmmyLou Laurie Lewis and Malvina All all that West Coast crew. [Chorus] Oh, we’re sheltered by the shadows of the tallest trees that grow Learning all the finger-rolls and the songs from long ago They sowed the seeds in Berkeley and the hills of Tennessee And I’m just a humble gardener of the legacy they leave [Bridge] It wasn't for the money and it wasn't for the fame They were looking for a Truth that doesn't have a name And every time I strike a chord and feel the wood vibrate I’m thanking those who walked before and opened up the gate. [Outro - Lyrics] Still hearing the echoes... In every hollow box... Keeping the song alive. [Outro - Instrumental] [Extended melodic guitar fade-out, becoming increasingly gentle until the final resonance.]
